That day, when the gatekeeper spirit ghost delivered the message that a guest had arrived, Lord Meishan was sitting in the pavilion, admiring the snow. On a small red clay stove, the fine wine that Fu Jiuyun had sent a few days earlier was warming up, filling the air with a rich aroma that made one’s mouth water. Meishan was distracted by it, entirely uninterested in meeting any guests, and he rudely ordered the spirit ghost to turn the visitor away.
Who could have expected that, shortly after, the spirit ghosts would return, panicked and shouting, “It’s the great monk from the Youhu clan! He’s still alive!”
Meishan was shocked as well. The great monk of the Youhu clan? How long had it been since anyone had heard from him? A hundred years? Three hundred years? The last time anyone heard of him, it was said that he had ventured alone to the Mountain of Thunder in the far west, a desolate land filled with constant lightning and thunder, as eerie as the darkest ghostly realms, full of hidden dangers. Even immortals who ventured there risked severe injury.
After the monk went there, he vanished without a trace. The sect of Fangwai Mountain was thrown into chaos, but at that time, the feud between the Youhu clan and the battle ghosts had paused, so the Youhu people went all out, scouring the land for years to find him. Despite their efforts, they didn’t even find a single hair. Eventually, everyone had to accept that he was dead, and over the years, no one spoke of him again.
But it turns out he was still alive!
Meishan jumped to his feet and ran toward the entrance without touching the ground. As he approached, he smelled the familiar scent of the Youhu clan’s incense. Outside, on the snow-covered wooden bridge, stood a grand, luxurious carriage, with an exotic Jile bird proudly standing by—it was breathtakingly beautiful.
Three figures stood in front of the carriage. The one in the lead wore white robes with intricate gold patterns embroidered on the collar and sleeves, giving him an air of nobility. Hearing footsteps in the snow, he slowly turned around. Meishan froze in place. This man’s face was pale, yet not in a sickly way. His eyes were slightly upturned, glowing with divine brilliance—cold but not harsh, composed but not frivolous. Despite his striking features, they paled in comparison to his bright, captivating eyes.
Without a doubt, this was an exceptionally handsome and extraordinary young man. Most importantly—he looked completely unfamiliar. Meishan was certain he had never seen him before. Who was he? Was this the true face of the great monk of the Youhu clan?
The man smiled slightly, and for a moment, everything in the world seemed dull in comparison. Meishan suddenly felt a wave of self-consciousness and coughed awkwardly before addressing him. “Your Excellency, the great monk?”
Yuan Zhong smiled, pulling two small white jade wine jars from his sleeve and shaking them slightly. “Meishan, it’s been a long time. Care to share a drink?”
It was the finest wine in the world! Meishan’s face lit up with joy, and he waved excitedly, “Come in, quickly!”
As they walked, Meishan noticed two more people following Yuan Zhong, a man and a woman, both wearing wide-brimmed hats with veils that covered their faces. Curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, “Are these two immortals from the Youhu clan as well?”
Yuan Zhong chuckled and lifted the man’s hat, revealing a face identical to his own. Although every feature was the same, the expression was far more lively. It lacked the commanding presence of the real Yuan Zhong, but had a more approachable, friendly quality.
Meishan jumped in shock. “Is this your... twin brother?”
He had never heard of the great monk having a twin brother. And to look exactly the same!
The man with the hat grinned mischievously and knocked on his own head, which echoed hollowly. As he watched Meishan’s jaw drop, he burst into laughter. “See? My head is empty. I’m a mechanical man.”
A mechanical man! Meishan, already overwhelmed by the day’s surprises, was utterly dumbfounded. Mechanical men—what kind of legend was that? It was said that in ancient times, craftsmen had created mechanical beings that were indistinguishable from real people, even possessing their own thoughts and personalities. This was considered a defiance of the heavens.
After the great war between gods and demons, many such ancient techniques had been lost, and mechanical men were one of them. And now this man claimed to be one? How could Meishan believe that?
A mischievous glint appeared in Yuan Zhong’s eyes as he reached out and twisted off the head of Yuan Xiaozhong. Meishan staggered back in terror as the head, still in Yuan Zhong’s hand, furrowed its brows in anger and shouted, “Yuan Zhong! Not again! How many times have I told you not to do this in front of others? Even though I’m a mechanical man, I still have my dignity!”
It could still speak, even after the head was removed! Meishan was frozen in place, his body stiff with shock.
Yuan Zhong calmly screwed the head back on and smiled. “That’s how it is. As long as the gears keep turning, he can talk, jump, and run forever.”
Then... was the woman beside him also a mechanical being? Meishan glanced nervously at the veiled woman.
Yuan Zhong only smiled and said nothing as they entered the pavilion. The wine on the red clay stove was bubbling, its aroma filling the air. Without hesitation, Yuan Zhong poured himself a cup, sipped it slowly, and said, “Ah, this is the Xiaguang wine brewed by the Dragon King of Shenhe to the east. Excellent, truly fine wine.”
Meishan, after gulping down three large cups of wine, finally managed to gather his scattered thoughts. He stared at Yuan Xiaozhong for a long time, increasingly fascinated. He muttered to himself, “Who made this? What incredible craftsman could create something so lifelike... It’s truly astonishing.”
Yuan Zhong remained silent for a moment before softly replying, “She’ll be back. When she returns, you’ll see her.”
Whether he was speaking to Meishan or to himself, it was hard to say. For hundreds of years, he had repeated these words countless times in his heart. No one was more certain, and yet no one doubted the fragile lie more than he did.
Meishan finally heard the weariness and helplessness in the great monk’s voice. His gaze fell upon this immortal who had been missing for so many centuries.
“Your Excellency, where have you been all these years?”
Yuan Zhong smiled slightly. “Just wandering.”
The world was vast, and perhaps Tan Yin was hidden in some unknown corner. He had searched place after place, seen countless landscapes, met countless people, but none of them were her.
Since Yuan Zhong clearly didn’t want to talk about it, Meishan wisely refrained from asking further. They quickly finished the Xiaguang wine, and soon enough, the two jars of the world’s finest wine were emptied as well. Though the quantity was small, it still left even a seasoned drinker like Meishan feeling slightly tipsy.
At some point, the snow had stopped falling. A clear, cold crescent moon hung in the sky. Fueled by the alcohol, Meishan asked, “So, what will you do next? Keep wandering? Speaking of which, last time you gave Fu Jiuyun ten jars of the world’s finest wine, you were asking about a woman, weren’t you? Have you been looking for her all these years?”
Before he disappeared, the great monk had visited Meishan’s residence, inquiring about mysterious matters related to the gods. Later, he gave Fu Jiuyun ten jars of the world’s finest wine and took him aside for a long, private conversation. Afterward, Fu Jiuyun had revealed that Yuan Zhong had been asking about a woman.
The strange part was that while Fu Jiuyun vaguely remembered the woman, he couldn’t recall the details of their encounter—not her appearance, her voice, or even her name. The situation was bizarre, and neither of them could figure it out. Eventually, they stopped thinking about it altogether.
To think that even the noble, aloof great monk of the Youhu clan would be so deeply preoccupied with thoughts of a woman. Meishan felt a pang of jealousy as he glanced at Yuan Zhong’s strikingly handsome face. With such looks, did he really need to worry about attracting beautiful women?
Yuan Zhong sighed. “No more wandering. I’m returning to my paradise. The reason I came to see you is to ask for help gathering some materials. You have many connections, and it will save me a lot of time.”
With that, he reached over and removed the veiled hat from the silent woman behind him. Meishan was shocked to find that she, too, was a mechanical being. Unlike Yuan Xiaozhong, though, her face was cracked and worn, her features distorted and strange, clearly a much lower-level creation.
“T-This is...” Meishan stuttered.
Yuan Zhong gently caressed her cracked wooden face, his voice soft with affection. “I made this one. The wood has rotted over time; it needs to be polished and repaired.”
So, the great monk could even create mechanical beings! What had happened to him over the years? Had he met some ancient ghostly craftsman who had wandered the earth for ten thousand years? Meishan’s curiosity was now almost unbearable, and he was just about to ask when he saw a deep sorrow flash across Yuan Zhong’s face.
It wasn’t a look unfamiliar to him. Fu Jiuyun had once worn the same expression—an expression of someone who had lost the one they loved.
Meishan bit his tongue hard, forcing back the question that was about to escape. The pain brought tears to his eyes.
Under the moonlight, Yuan Zhong gently stroked the worn mechanical being, as if he were caressing the person he held most dear in his heart. He remained like that for a long, long time without looking up.
Perhaps it was the moonlight casting its melancholy spell, or perhaps the aftereffects of the world’s finest wine, but at that moment, Meishan found himself drawn into memories he had long buried. That’s right—he had once loved a woman, too. She had been an ordinary mortal, nothing special. In the prime of her life, they had met, but she had never been his.
It had been hundreds of years... Meishan sighed deeply. Her beautiful face had long since turned to dust, leaving only a faint, helpless sorrow in the heart of the one left behind.
True to his word, Meishan swiftly gathered the materials to repair Xiao Erji. Within two days, a large cart was filled to the brim. Yuan Zhong, without hesitation, refused Meishan’s request to observe the creation of a mechanical being and drove the cart back to the small paradise he hadn’t seen in hundreds of years.
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